The fear is creeping in. A little.
We were all laughing and joking on the weekend how M really didn’t want to come out. It was a long traumatic labour and I said anything less this time would be a blessing.
I’ve been thinking about it all now and I am scared.
M was induced. 4 days of induction. I had all the pain killers. Gas and air was my favourite. I loved that stuff.
My waters broke, eventually, very late on the third day of induction. By the time morning came I was a wreck after having a really horrible midwife in the night. My midwife in the day was lush, she’d been with me all the other days too and advised it was in my best interest being as exhausted as I was, to have an epidural.
I had a student doctor first off who struggled to cannulate me. Blood everywhere. Then a student anaesthetist who panicked and couldn’t give me the epidural. The anaesthetist took over then and administered it. Then bam… Blood pressure dropped and the next thing I know I was having etherdrin and all sorts. It was interest.
It was all so long and traumatic that when the time came to push I think it all happened a little too quick and I had a third degree tear.
The following morning I stood up and lost a pint of blood in seconds and was so ill I couldn’t hold my beautiful boy.
I wish I didn’t remember it all so vividly. It’s making me scared for this time.
I already know that after I’ve given birth I will be put on a drip for 4 hours to try and prevent a PPH.
I’m worried I will end up being induced and it being as awful as last time. I’m worried baby boy will be a lot bigger than his brothers 9lb 15oz.
There’s still a lot of time to go really, but I am scared.